Come Back Down
by El Spunko
Summary: Up to Chapter 9 finally posted. He waits for her.
1. Chapter 1

I posted this way back in October, and I've been putting off posting it here. Then sugah pushed me, so finally, I'm posting it here.

A million billion thanks to **Bobo** and **cyko** for betaing, insisting to read this, and feeding my ego. I love you guys!

Post-303. He waits for her.

Title comes from "Come Back Down" by Lifehouse.

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October 4, 2006  
**I can't move. My feet are practically glued to the ground. I want to move. I know I should move, go home, update Mac on the case, something. But I can't. I'm stuck here, watching her leave.She likes me. I like her. It's that simple, isn't it? It should be, at least. We like each other. We want to be together. Being together would, logically, be the next step, right? I don't get her. I really don't. My feet finally move. But it's definitely not the direction I want to go. I want to go home and curl up under my covers. Instead, I find myself running - no, jogging - toward our office. 

I tap lightly on the doorframe. "Lindsay, can we talk?"

She turns around. Her eyes are red, and I can see the tears drying on her cheeks. "About what, Danny? 'Cause I think we covered everything."

"No, we didn't." I step in. "Lindsay, we've been doing this for a year. You flirt, I flirt. And I don't understand why you'd keep that up if you weren't looking for something." She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "Let me get this out, OK? I don't understand it -" I let out a small chuckle. "Hell, I don't understand anything about you. But I'm not mad at you. I just want to know if any of this, your problem, is my fault."

She shakes her head, fighting back more tears. "No, Danny, it's not your fault, any of it. I need a little time to sort everything out, and then we can...try us."

"How long do you think you'll need?" I ask, fighting back tears of my own. "For my benefit, so I can write it down on my calendar."

Lindsay smiles a little at that. "A few months, maybe. The second everything's back to normal, I'll let you know, okay?"

I force a small smile. "OK. If there's anything I can do to speed up the process, let me know."

She steps closer and lightly touches my arm. "Can we still be friends? Until everything's...you know, over."

"Of course," I say. I want to do something, tell her that everything will be fine, or that whatever's going on, it won't affect us, and we'll be friends, and we'll be dating, and everything will be great. I want to help her somehow, and I can't.

She smiles and wipes away her tears. It takes all of my willpower not to take her into my arms and hold her as tight as I can.

She pauses for a second, unsure what to do. Then she quickly leans in and kisses me, right on the corner of my mouth.

"Thank you, Danny," she says. "For understanding. I know this is rough on you, and it's not fair. But you're being so nice, and...Thank you."

She gives me another smile. This one fills me with hope. "Of course, Montana," I say simply.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all for the reviews. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :D

Thanks again to cyko and Boleyn at DLC for the beta. Wub wub!

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**November 22, 2006  
**She comes into work late today. I'm already at work in the DNA lab when she joins me, her hair in a messy ponytail and bags under her eyes. I smile at her, but she responds with a grimace.

"What's wrong, Montana?" I ask carefully. She pulls on a lab coat and sighs.

"Nothing. I'm just in a bad mood. I couldn't fall asleep last night, and so I finally fell asleep at around two. Then there was traffic, which is why I'm late."

I nod. "OK. Well, I don't think this is gonna help your bad mood. We're at a dead-end. No DNA, prints come back to the victim, no witnesses..."

She comes to stand next to me. I can feel the heat radiating off her body, and it's making my knees threaten to buckle. "What about the victim's roommate? Did he ever come back from Jersey?"

I try to focus on the case, not Lindsay's perfume. "Yeah. Spent the night at his girlfriend's. Flack and I talked to him last night after you went home, and got nothing."

"So I guess we are at a dead-end," Lindsay says, looking right at me. It's then that I realize just how close we are; if we move our heads just a little bit, our noses would be touching.I swallow. "Yeah. So I guess that we're done?"

Her eyes seem to pop open. "What?"

I gesture to the file we were both looking at. "The case. We're done. No more leads, no evidence..."

"Oh."

Is it just my imagination, or does she look a little relieved? "Yeah. I guess so. I mean, unless it was suicide, which might..."

"Explain everything," I finish. We both look at the folder. "No DNA, no fingerprints except for his own, no witnesses. No one saw anything because no one was there," I say.

Our eyes meet. I should say something. I need to say something. Anything.

"So what are you doing for Thanksgiving tomorrow?"

Dammit. Not that.

She looks a little surprised. "What? Oh, uh, I don't know. Nothing. I'm having dinner with my Uncle Freddie."

I nod. "Good. That's, uh, nice."She nods, chewing her lip. "I'll go tell Flack about the case," she says, looking a little awkward. She pulls off her lab coat, seeming a little happy to leave.I stand up. "I could go with you, if you want. We could get something to eat?" I offer lamely.

She freezes in the doorway. "I thought that - Danny, I thought you understood that I can't..."

"I know," I cut her off. "Montana, I'm just asking if you want to get something to eat. Nothing romantic about that."

Lindsay looks behind her, like she's trying to see if anyone's coming. "Danny," she says, taking a step closer, "wouldn't it be easier on both of us if we didn't spend that much time together? Outside of work, I mean."

"You said we're still friends," I answer without looking up. "How can we be friends without spending time together?"

I finally look up at her. She's slowly shaking her head. "I don't know, Danny. I thought that we could be friends, but we can't. Because whenever I'm next to you, I just want to kiss you, and I can't, because I'm still not ready for a relationship. And it seems like you feel the same way, about wanting to kiss me. And until things can move forward, I don't think we should spend any unnecessary time together."

I swallow that. "OK," I say simply. She looks at me in surprise.

"Really? You can live with that?"

I smile. "Like I said, anything that will speed up the process." She looks at me doubtfully, but seems to accept it.

"OK. I'll go find Flack." She flashes a quick smile and leaves. I bang my head on the table. I had a perfect opportunity, and I blew it. Right now, I could be walking down the hallway, spending more time with Lindsay, showing her how funny and caring and supportive I am. And instead? I'm standing here, banging my head on a table, talking to myself.

God's funny sometimes.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A million, bajillion thanks to cyko and Boleyn for betaing this for me.**

**I realize that, yes, I suck. I'm posting up to chapter 6 today to try and make up for my suckiness.**

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**December 24, 2006  
**OK. It's my last shot. In one week, it will be a new year. And this year, I won't think about Lindsay.

As much.

Here I am, sitting in my car, working up the nerve to go in there. I know she's there. And knowing Flack, there's mistletoe hanging up. And that would be awkward.

So I'm trying not to go in.

But I have to. I didn't get into a suit for nothing. Plus, I spent a hundred bucks on her present. I'm going to have no use for it. I have to get in there.

I take whatever dignity I have left and get out of the car.

OK. Step one, down. Step two, get inside.

A minute later, that's accomplished.

Step three, find Lindsay.

I find them all in the break room. Flack is dressed as Santa, and he's handing out everyone's presents.

We did Secret Santa again this year. I got Lindsay. I got Lindsay last year, too. Last year's present was not nearly as sentimental as this one. I got her a specially-made pillow with the word "Montana" on it. She actually seemed to like it.

This year, hopefully she'll know it's more from the heart. I slide the present under the tree, smiling at my coworkers. Stella seems to be on at least her third glass of spiked eggnog. I sit down next to Hawkes.

"What've I missed?" I whisper.

"Stella got me a book, I got Flack 'Yoga For Dummies' and Mac and Lindsay's presents haven't been open yet," he says.

Flack pulls out another present. "This one is to...Elf Danny!" he proclaims. I grab it out of his hand.

"Don't call me an elf," I mutter. I open it and see a light blue pillow. Yeah. I'm confused.

Lindsay pokes my side. "Turn it over," she hisses. I do, and I can't help but grin like an idiot. On the front, in white lettering, it says "New York."

"Thanks, Linds," I say.

She grins at me. "I just thought that, with the pillow you got me last year, and all, I thought you might like one."

Flack coughs. "Excuse me. We still have two presents left. This one is to Mac," he says, handing Mac a rectangular box.

Mac opens it and pulls out what looks like a photo album. He starts looking through the pages. "Stella, this is..." He sounds a little choked up. "This is beautiful. Thank you, Stella."

"I've been working on it for a while," she says with a warm smile. "I was going to give it to you when I finished it, which happened to be a few weeks ago."

He smiles, his eyes filled with tears. "Thank you."

"What is it?" Lindsay asks. Mac passes her the photo album. I look over her shoulder as she reads through it.

There were pictures from Mac and Claire's wedding. Mainly Mac and Claire, a few had Stella and Mac, and other people from the police department.

Even Flack chokes back a small sob. "That's really beautiful, Stel," Hawkes says.

"Can we, uh," Flack says, wiping his eyes, "give out the last present? Please?" Everyone nods.

"It's for you, Lindsay," he says, handing her my box. Lindsay looks around at us.

"I wonder who this could be from," she says, her eyes landing on me. "There's so many people who it could be from..."

She winks at me and opens the box. She pulls out the necklace and gasps. "Oh my God, Danny..."

I got her a silver locket. On the back, I had "10-04-06" engraved, as a reminder. Inside, I put pictures of me. Because, really, who wouldn't want me in their locket?

She looks at me for a second, silently questioning the date. Suddenly it comes to her, and she gives me a small grin. "I love it," she says.

I smile back at her. Who knew I could love Christmas this much?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: To sum things up, I suck, cyko and Boleyn rule.**

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**December 30, 2006  
**"Here, Montana," I say, handing her a disco ball. "Can you hold that for a second?"

She laughs at me as I climb up the ladder. "You're hanging a disco ball for our New Year's party," she says in disbelief.

She hands me the disco ball. I start drilling it into the ceiling. "Yes. Why not? Are you saying that disco balls aren't cool?"

"Maybe in 1976," she snorts. I see her steal a soda from the fridge.

"Hey, those are for tomorrow!" I say. She smiles angelically at me.

"So," I say, checking the disco ball to see if it's tight, "who are you kissing at midnight?"

She chokes a little on her soda. "What? We're, uh, doing that? But we're coworkers." She stops for a second. "All of us, I mean. Not just you and me."

I start climbing down. "I know what you meant, Montana," I say, rolling my eyes a little. I'm kind of sick of this. She won't say anything around me that I could construe as "flirting." So basically, that leaves all case talk.

But sometimes, like now, the old Lindsay will slip through. The one who used to flirt with me. The one who would start a conversation about phone sex. The one who made me fall in love with her personality. Not this new, professional Lindsay.

She blushes. "So people are kissing at midnight? That's not really fair. Two girls, four guys. And assuming you'd mark your territory on me, and God knows the only person Stella would ever even consider kissing is Mac, that leaves Hawkes and Flack to kiss each other."

I chuckle. "You wouldn't want to see that?" Lindsay laughs and shakes her head.

"You could not pay me enough money." I reach the bottom rung of the ladder. As I step off, Hawkes opens the door, hitting the ladder, and knocking me off. I fall backwards and hit my head on the table. As I fade into darkness, the last thing I see is the disco ball.

---

As I open my eyes, everything is white. The one person who stands out is Lindsay, wearing all red.

"Lindsay," I say, suddenly crying. She floats toward me.

"Danny," she says. She pulls me into a hug.

"I love you," I whisper into her shoulder. I can feel her smile.

"I love you too, Danny. But remember what I said? Just a little longer. Everything is almost back to normal."

For some reason, that makes me cry harder. "I just want to be with you so much. Who cares about that other thing? Me and you, that's what's important."

We pull apart. Lindsay starts stroking my cheek. "Danny, listen to me. I know this is hard. But it's going to get easier. Things between us are already better than they were after that day. We're becoming friends again. And sure, we love each other. But we're learning how to deal with it."

"Can you just," I choke out, "tell me why we can't be together? What's that problem of yours?"

She shakes her head sadly.

"Danny?"

---

"Danny?"

I open my eyes. Lindsay is above me, feeling my head. She looks like an angel.

"Lindsay?" I say in a voice that's much too dreamy to be my own. "You look so pretty..."

"Thank you," she says, still making sure I'm OK. "Either your head is really misshapen, or you've got a huge bump on the back of your head."

I reach up to feel it. Now that the initial feeling of confusion has passed, I can feel my head throbbing with pain. "Son of a bitch. What did that? Wait - where are we?" I sit up. "Are we at a crime scene? Are you OK?"

Ow. I sat up too fast.

Lindsay cups my cheeks. "No, Danny, we're at work. You fell off the ladder and hit your head. Are you OK?"

Oh. Right.

I smile sheepishly. "Yeah. I'm fine. My head hurts, though." A hand appears in front of me, holding a glass of water and two Advil. Hawkes.

I swallow them and slowly stand up, Lindsay holding onto my arm. "But on the bright side," she says, "we got the break room decorated for the party tomorrow."

I look around, a smile forming on my face. "Yeah. It looks great."

We had turned the place into a winter wonderland. The windows were covered with that fake-snow spray stuff, all flat surfaces were covered with white felt. The disco ball, which would seem out of place, was reflecting the white, making it seem like it was snowing.

"I guess it does fit," Lindsay says quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Same ol', same ol'. Spunky is stupid, cyko and Boleyn are smart.**

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**December 31, 2006**

T-minus fifteen minutes and counting.

In 2007, my resolution is to wait patiently for Lindsay.

That's total shit. I'm not gonna be patient. I haven't been over these past six weeks; why start now?

And here we are, December 31. Lindsay and I talked yesterday about who we're going to kiss at midnight. The question is, did she take that conversation seriously?

If so, fifteen minutes - excuse me, fourteen - until Lindsay and I kiss.

Someone punches my shoulder. I turn around to see Flack barely standing. "Happy New Year, man!" he slurs. I pull the champagne glass out of his hand.

"You're wasted," I yell over the music. Flack grins.

"Danny?" I turn around and see Mac. "I know that it's, uh, not really...Well, it's not really appropriate for me to ask you this, or suggest it, but, uh...See, I want to kiss Stella at midnight. But I don't want to be the only one kissing someone. So could you kiss Lindsay?"

I can't believe it. Mac is giving me permission to kiss Lindsay? God, now all I need is Lindsay's permission to kiss Lindsay.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I say, finding my voice. Mac smiles gratefully.

"Thank you," he says. I wave it off and start walking around.

We actually got quite a turnout. Hawkes brought his new girlfriend, who brought about ten of her friends, all of whom Flack had hit on. Hammerback, Pino, and Adam came, too. Hammerback brought four girls, which I really don't want to ask him about. Pino brought his girlfriend, Amy, and Adam, poor Adam, was going stag.

T-minus ten minutes.

I find Lindsay by the champagne. "Hey," I yell.

She turns to look at me. "Oh, hey, Danny. So, ten minutes until our kiss." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

I force a laugh. "Yeah. Hey, are you drunk?"

Lindsay was staring at the disco ball in complete bewilderment. "What?" she asks, pulling her head back down to my level. "Oh. Sorry. I'm just a little bit drunk, yes."

She giggles a little. "You're so cute," she breathes. "Why can't we date again?"

Because you won't have me.

"Lindsay," I say as carefully as I can, "as much as I want to kiss you - and believe me, I want to kiss you. But as much as I want to, I want you to want me to kiss you. I don't want to kiss you while you're drunk."

"Danny," she says, running her finger up and down my shirt, "I'm not drunk. Well, OK, I'm a little bit drunk. But just a little! And I want you to kiss me. Know what else? I want you to - " She leans forward and whispers something into my ear.

Hot damn.

I look at her for a second. "OK. I'll find you in seven minutes." She waves a finger at me.

"See you then."

Seven minutes later, I set out to find Lindsay. This time, she's talking to Stella by the fridge.

I see Mac come up to get Stella. "Lindsay," I say. "Come on, the ball's gonna drop. Let's get a good view by the TV."

We all stand in front of the TV, where Dick Clark was leading everyone in the countdown. "Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight! Twenty-seven!"

OK. I can count.

Finally, it gets down to five.

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

Lindsay was staring at the television, probably wondering how they got the ball to drop. I grab her wrist and pull her toward me.

I lean down, catching her lips. She moans slightly - God, I'm in love with this girl.

Her lips part, and her tongue darts into my mouth. Is she trying to kill me? Really.

I have to stop myself. In five...four...three...two...

I pull my head away from hers. "Happy New Year, Montana," I say.

She smiles. "Happy New Year, Danny."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: cyko and Boleyn - awesome. Spunky - not so much.**

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**January 1, 2007  
**Flack threw up on me. I hate Flack. 

I pull off my once-clean smelling shirt and throw it into my hamper. I'll deal with it later. For now, I need to stop smelling like vomit.

I step into the shower. Normally, I'm not a fan of really hot showers, but it's freezing outside, and I need some way to keep warm while naked. I take a second to adjust to the temperature before I start scrubbing.

My number one bad idea since October: Think about Lindsay while in the shower. This always ends badly.

Or good. Depends on how you look at it.

Fifteen minutes after going in, I step out of the shower. I vaguely remember the days before Lindsay, when I could shower in less than five minutes. Those were the days.

I wrap a towel around my waist. Did I mention that I hate Flack?

I grab my suit and dump it in my washing machine. The doorbell rings. And of course, I can't go back to my room to at least put on pants. So I have to answer the door naked. With just cloth hiding Little Danny from whoever was at the door.

I look in the peephole. Fuck. I need pants. No way the towel is going to hide her, uh, effect on me.

"Hey," I say, opening the door. Lindsay wipes away a tear.

She smells like vodka. No, excuse me. She reeks of vodka.

"Hey," she says. "I didn't know where else to go."

See, normally, at this point, I'd invite her in. But then I'd have to sit, or something. And that is not pleasant while wearing a towel in front of the girl of your dreams.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

She looks down. "I got a phone call from - Can we go inside? I don't really want to talk about this in the hallway."

Fuck. "Sure," I say, gesturing for her to sit down. "I'm gonna go change. Be right back."

I try to run to my bedroom. That's very difficult when wearing a towel.

I find an old Police Academy shirt and sweatpants and go back to my living room. "So what's wrong?" I ask, sitting next to her on the couch.

"Do you want to know what it was?" she asks quietly, staring at the floor.

"What...what was?"

"The thing," she says, meeting my eyes. "The thing I had to sort out."

"Oh." Duh. I replay that day in my head every single night. "Yeah. But if you don't want to tell me..."

"My mom," she starts, "was killed when I was fifteen. It was three in the morning. I got home an hour earlier from a date. I missed curfew, and I was just concentrating on getting up to my bedroom. So I didn't think to lock the door."

She wipes away another tear. "I went to sleep. The next morning, I woke up, and my mom was..."

She stops wiping the tears. "My mom was dead," she says. "Because of me."

I hate myself sometimes. I pull her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Lindsay," I whisper into her ear.

She finds a tissue box and blows her nose. "They never got the guy. Everyone knew who did it, though. The guy next door, James McDonald. They arrested him, and he went to jail. And everything was great, but then his attorney said that he found evidence that McDonald was sleeping with my mom."

She looks at her, her eyes starting to flare. "He wasn't, of course. It was just a shit way to get him off. That's when I left. I just couldn't take it."

I ask this carefully. "That was over a year ago, though. Why is that keeping you from being ready for a relationship a year later?"

"Because," she sighs, "a few days before...that day, I got a call from my old boss in Montana. He got out over the summer, which I knew. What I didn't know, what my boss told me, was that he's accused of killing someone else."

"That's a valid reason," I say quietly. Lindsay looks at me. I've never seen her like this; normally, she's so together, occasionally letting her emotions get ahead of her. But she's never looked like this - like the wrong move, the wrong words, will cause her to break.

"I didn't want to start something until that was all sorted out. I wanted him to be behind bars, where he belongs. That's understandable, right?"

I nod and start stroking her hair. "Lindsay, I understood from the beginning."

She smiles a little. "You're right. We can be friends."

I wrap my arm around her and pull her into my chest. "Yeah."

Yeah. I guess we can be friends. Until that whole thing with McDonald is sorted out, anyway. Right?


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This is a very, very, very short chapter. You see, these were the days before Spunky learned the meaning of the word "prolific." Due to my neglect (again) and the length of this chapter, I'm just gonna upload the rest of the fic tonight. I apologize for any and all email floodings.**

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**February 10, 2007  
**My phone rings, waking me up. It's six in the morning on a Saturday. A Saturday that I'm not working. I hate people who wake me up.

I groan something that may or may not have been "hello" into the receiver.

"Danny, hey. Sorry I woke you."

OK, so I don't hate everyone who wakes me up.

Her voice wakes me up. "Lindsay? What's going on? Did we get a case? 'Cause it's my day off, and not that I mind being called in, but - "

"No," she says. "We didn't get a case. I'm sorry that I woke you, but my old boss called. I need to go back to Montana for a few weeks. The prosecutors want my testimony for the case against McDonald."

"Oh. So...OK, then. I'll see you when you get back, I guess." I can't even concentrate on the "few weeks" part. All I hear is that she's leaving.

"Yeah. I'll call you after I give my testimony, let you know how everything's going." I hear shuffling, and then Lindsay lets out a curse.

"My taxi's here. Don't forget about me, Messer."

I force out a chuckle. "That's impossible, Montana."

We both hang up. My head drops into my hands. A few weeks without Lindsay. That'll be great.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: All the usual: I'm not so awesome, cyko and Bobo are, I don't own Danny and Lindsay. Even though I totally should.**

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**February 14, 2007  
**I made a decision.

I'm going after her.

And no, it's not so she'll find her "comfort" in me, or whatever. As a friend, I want to be there for her.

So here I am, on an early flight to Bozeman. I haven't talked to her in three days, which is really weird. In the sixteen or so months that she's been in New York, the longest that we've gone without speaking was a day. So you could say that I'm going through Montana withdrawal.

We're about to land, I think. Here I go.

---

She doesn't look happy to see me.

"Danny?" she says in disbelief, coming outside. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to be here for you," I say. I know this was unexpected and all, but why does she sound so unhappy to see me?

"Danny, you didn't..." She takes a deep breath. "I appreciate this. I do. But you flew all the way to Montana to be here for me? You ever hear of a phone?"

"Yeah," I say lamely. "But...I wanted to be a good friend to you, and - "

"Danny!" she yells. "A good friend would call me. You know who goes to the other side of the country to 'be a friend'? Guys looking for a girl who's broken, and just begging for a guy for a guy to 'comfort' them."

"Lindsay," I say, heartbroken, "that's not what this is about."

"Of course it is!" She's still yelling. "For over a year, you've made it painfully obvious that you like me. Even after I told you that I wasn't ready for a relationship, you kept flirting with me, and wanting to spend more time together, so you could try and get me to go out with you, regardless of the fact that I wasn't ready. Who kissed who on New Year's? You've always made the first move, Danny, and this is just another move you're making."

It feels like someone ran over my heart with a truck. "No it's not, Lindsay," I say, stepping closer. I reach for her arm. "Just listen to - "

"Don't touch me!" she yells. She turns to go back inside. I grab her arm.

"Lindsay, please listen to me," I plead. She fights to get her arm back.

"Let me go. Danny, let me go."

I see the vulnerable look in her eyes - I know why I came here. It wasn't for sex. But Lindsay doesn't know that. And it doesn't seem like I'm going to convince her.

I let go. She storms into the house.

I open my suitcase and find the package. I take it and set it against the door, along with a card.

In the package was a jazz CD and a book on how to cook bugs. Reminders of our first "dates." The card was simple - blank on the outside. Inside, all it said was "Happy Valentine's Day."

I close my suitcase. Time to go back to New York.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I rule a proportionate amount, cyko and Boleyn rule a huge amount.**

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**February 28****  
**New record: fourteen days since I talked to Montana.

I went online and found out that the trial's over. McDonald was found guilty; we're just waiting on a verdict.

She's coming back today. I can feel it. I just know that at some point today, Lindsay will walk through those doors.

The question is, does she want to see me? Things ended really badly between us. But we've had two weeks to cool down. So hopefully she will want to see me.

A guy can dream, right?

There's a small knock at the door of our office. I look up and see her, holding her suitcases, a bright smile on her face.

"Hey."

With that one word, I know she doesn't hate me. And that's good enough for now.

"Hey." She brings her stuff in and sits at her desk.

"I heard about the case," I say. "He was found guilty. That's great."

She smiles. "Yeah." We both fall into an uncomfortable silence.

I guess I'm bringing it up. "Lindsay, about Montana...It wasn't about sex. Maybe I was thinking that it'd make you see how sweet I am, and you'd fall madly in love with me, but it wasn't about sex. Even if you said, flat-out, that you never wanted to be with me, and you hate me, I would have stayed. I was there as a friend, not a guy interested in you."

"I know," she says. "I know. I'm sorry for yelling at you. You've been a great friend to me, really, and I didn't mean any of what I said."

Her eyes flick over to her suitcases, and she smiles. "And thank you for the presents. I loved them."

My truck-flattened heart seems to pop back up. "You understood them, right? The bugs and the jazz?"

"Of course!" Her mouth drops open, like she's shocked that I'd have the audacity to suggest she doesn't remember. "How could I forget? The bugs from that case of yours, and when we saw Mac at Cozy's."

There she is again - the old Lindsay. The one who isn't afraid to say something that might lead to an uncomfortable conversation.

"Yeah," I say. "I missed you, you know."

She catches my meaning. "Yeah. I did, too."


End file.
